by Tonia Brown
Laughter began to fill the room. Of all the sounds I expected to hear in the next moment—gunfire, screaming, death—laughter was not one of them. I peered between Mab and Stretch to find Doctor Chambers holding her stomach and laughing up a storm.
“What’s so funny?” Dillon said.
Chambers ignored him, and continued laughing.
Dillon cocked the hammer and fired, shooting Bowing in the left shoulder. Bowing hollered and staggered back a few steps. Mab broke free from our ring and helped the man into a chair. She pressed her hands to the oozing wound.
“Tell me what is so fucking funny!” Dillon shouted. “Or the next one will be in your head!”
“Go ahead,” Chambers said, with calm certainty. “You’re just going to kill me anyways. You’re going to kill all of us. Once you know the truth.”
Dillon sneered and pulled the second pistol from his waist. “Tell me! God damn it!”
Chambers clucked her tongue at him. “Tisk, tisk, Mr. Thomas. We all know how rude it is to take Mr. Jackson’s deity’s name in vain. Don’t we?”
“Just tell him,” Mr. Theo said.
“Tell him what?” Chambers said.
“The truth about the cure,” Mr. Theo said.
Chambers grinned at him. “When did you figure this out?”
Mr. Theo raised his left hand to her. I gasped when I saw the bandage, and the stump of the missing finger it covered.
“This was a clue,” Mr. Theo said. “Dillon let me live to toy with me, not because he needed my blood. He had his own blood to work with as far as a cure went. But you. You treated me like a specimen from the start. In your lab and here. You could’ve killed me there but you didn’t. And here, here you could’ve taken my blood when you cut off my damned finger. You didn’t. You were careful about how you collected your samples. Clean and careful. That got me to thinking.”
“You are dangerous when you think,” Chambers said. “We all know that.”
“Excuse me,” Dillon said. “Did you forget I have the gun?”
“No,” Mr. Theo said. “And she’s right. You are going to kill her when you realize the truth.”
Dillon glared at my mentor. He shifted his gaze to Chambers, who held tight to her grin. Dillon shook his head at her. Chambers nodded.
“No,” Dillon said. “No. No. No. No!”
“Am I missing something?” Stretch said.
“There is no cure,” Mab said. “They’ve been lying to him this whole time.”
Dillon’s grip on his weapons tightened so much his knuckles popped. His hands shook with fury, as the guns trembled, pointing this way and that. All around us the sounds of struggle grew to a crescendo. Men screamed in pain and torment as the undead ripped through the living.
“Are you sure?” Stretch said. “I mean, their eyes have got that thing going on.”
“Oh please,” Chambers said, her gaze never leaving Dillon and her grin never faltering. “That was the easiest part to fake. Just the right mix in some eye drops and you didn’t know the difference. Any child could’ve done it.”
I doubted any child could’ve created a complex chemical to give one’s eyes such a ring, but I didn’t think that was the point. The point was all over Dillon’s disappointed, angry face.
“I saw you cure him,” Dillon said, motioning to Bowing.
“That was also easy to fake,” Chambers said. “You were so eager to believe whatever we told you.”
“There’s no cure?” he said.
“Nope,” Chambers said.
“But you cured me,” Dillon said.
“I’m afraid that was a bit of a lie,” Chambers said. “As much as I would love to take credit for it, you survived naturally. Like Theo here. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Well, surprise, the lie you spread for so many years turned out to be true.”
“You cured me. You told me it was your work.”
“Idiot. I only let you think I cured you because it suited my needs.”
Dillon shoved a gun at Bowing. “Tell me she’s lying. She’s immune. I saw her handling the undead without fear. Because she was immune.”
Bowing groaned as he clutched his shoulder. “She’s not immune. She’s just crazy.”
“Not immune,” Dillon said, as if trying on the words like one would try on a hat. He shook his head. “No. You’re lying too. I gave your cure to my men. My men!”
“Serves you right,” Bowing said. “You lunatic. You killed my friends. You deserve everything you get.”
“There never was a cure?” I said.
“We never found it,” Bowing said. “Though not for lack of trying. We tried. Dear God we tried so hard. We came pretty close. But this place, this dungeon he keeps us in. We didn’t have the right equipment or the right conditions. Maybe with time we could—”
“Time!” Dillon shrieked. “You think my men out there give a shit about your time? You condemned them all to death.”
“You condemned them,” Chambers said. “The moment you decided you should be in charge. You condemned us all. A little man with a little mind. That’s all you ever—”
Dillon fired. A glass bottle beside her head exploded in a shower of glass.
“Shut up!” he cried. He fired again, but Chambers was too quick for him.
She ducked out of the way, crouching as she rolled across the floor toward my mentor. Mr. Theo grabbed her by the hand and pulled her behind him, next to me. Dillon turned his guns our way.
“Give her to me,” Dillon said.
“It’s over,” Mr. Theo said. “Put down the guns so we can figure out how to get out of here.”
“No one is leaving here alive,” Dillon said. “You’re all going to suffer for what you’ve done to me.”
“Look at me, Dillon,” Mr. Theo said. He raised a hand and took a half step toward Dillon.
What was he doing? I pulled on the back of his belt. Stretch grabbed my hand and yanked it away allowing Mr. Theo to keep moving forward. I tried to protest, but Chambers placed a hand over my mouth, silencing me.
I saw what was happening then.
* * *
Theo
I stepped toward Dillon.
“Look at me, Dillon,” I repeated. “Look at what we’ve become. Look at what this has done to us. We will never be like them. We will never be the same as them. We are alone, you and me. We are unique. Isn’t that what you’re always saying? We’re special. And we are.”
“We are,” he said. “You know we are.”
“We are,” I said. I took another step closer to him. “We are the same. We are special.”
“We are better than they are, Theo. You know that.” Tears stood in his eyes now. “I know you know that. You’ve always known. Haven’t you?”
“I have always known. That’s why we should leave. Together.”
“What?”
I kept moving forward with slow, steady steps.“Together. Just me and you. We can leave them here for the undead. They won’t survive. But you and me? We’re immune. We can escape. Together.”
“Together?” he echoed. The guns wavered, lowering toward the floor.
I readied myself as I took another step forward. “It’s over, Dillon. It’s time for you to leave.” I stepped into his arms, between the guns, right up to him.
“We can leave,” Dillon said softly. “Together.”
“Look at me, Dillon,” I said. I had a good half a foot on him in height, forcing him to look up to me.
Lifting his chin to me.
Exposing his throat to me.
“I just need you to understand one thing,” I said.
“What’s that?” he said.
“I need you to know this is for what you did to your uncle,” I whispered.
A childlike wonder touched his eyes as he
furrowed his brow. “Uncle Vincent?”
With that name on his lips, I reached up and cut that bastard’s throat.
He gave a distinct gasp as the air left that wide, second smile below his chin. Dillon dropped his guns and grabbed at the hole in his gullet. He pressed his hands to the wound, trying to keep the blood from flowing and failing. Red spurted in a steady stream from his throat, a wide spray that coated me all down the front of my bare chest. The same blood he was so damned proud to have run through his veins now poured out, pooling on the floor at his feet.
This was what I should’ve done when I had him at gunpoint at Newton. Hell, this was what I should’ve done years ago, when he came to me with his offer to join the so called Syndicate. I should’ve killed him, and then myself. I should’ve ridded the world of our brand of trouble. Then none of this would’ve happened. Maybe.
Dillon tried to say something, tried to cry out, but all that came was a choked, wet gulp. Air gurgled between his fingers in red bubbles. He collapsed at my feet. It took every ounce of my being not to pounce on his corpse and slash it to pieces. I looked down at the blade in my hands. I could end all of it now. All of the madness and tears and trouble. A quick slash and I could join Dillon. I was no better than him. I deserved no better than him. I could’ve cut my own throat and finally set my spirit free. I would’ve too, if her voice hadn’t called me back from that brink of madness.
“Is he dead?” Sam said.
I blinked as my sanity returned to me. I couldn’t go yet. Unlike Dillon, I had someone that needed me.
“Is he dead,” she repeated.
I gave the body a good, swift kick. “Yes.”
“Good riddance,” Bowing said, holding his wounded shoulder. “Doctor, can you help a little here?”
“Let me look at that,” Chambers said, picking at Bowing’s wound while he hissed.
I tossed the blade back to Mab. “Where were you keeping that little number?”
“Where do you think?” she said. She wiped the blood off on her bodice, then tucked the blade between her breasts. She gave them a little jiggle, settling the small knife back into place.
Her, I liked. I could see what drove Stretch crazy about her.
“Is he dead?” Sam said again.
She stood against a table, staring down at the bloody corpse of Dillon. A slight tremble rolled over her. She asked the question a third time, her wide eyes never leaving his body.
“He’s gone, girly,” I said. I pulled her to me and she collapsed in a weeping heap again in my arms. “It’s all right, Sammy. It’s going to be all right now.”
Mab patted Sam on the back. Stretch reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. They were good people.
It dawned on me that I had been wrong all this time.
“God is here,” I said.
Sam raised her tear streaked face to me. “Sir?”
“I’ve been wrong,” I said. “I thought God abandoned us in this place but I was wrong. God has been here this whole time. He never left us. He sent you these folks to look after you and bring you back to me.”
“He kept you alive too,” she said. “So I could find you again.”
“True. He’s been quiet, but He’s still here.”
Sam put her face back into my shoulder and squeezed me even harder. “He works in mysterious ways.”
“He certainly does.”
Mab moved in closer, as did Stretch, and it became a kind of awkward group hug. We stood in that silence, hugging and loving and just being alive. That was finally enough for once. Just to be alive. Alive and together.
“Listen,” Chambers said.
“To what?” Stretch said.
“To that,” Bowing said. “Listen.”
We all fell quiet again.
“I don’t hear nothin’,” Stretch said. Then he gasped as he realized what the silence possibly meant. “Oh, I don’t hear nothin’. You think it’s over?”
Mab looked to the ceiling. “I think everyone is either dead or headed for the hills. I am sure there will be plenty of revs left for us.” She nodded to Bowing. “Can you travel with that shoulder?”
“Are you kidding?” Bowing said. “I sure as hell am not staying here.”
“Good man,” Mab said. “Stretch, grab whatever you can carry while Theo and I scout the exit.”
I patted Sam on the shoulder. “Help them pack.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“And don’t forget our notes,” Chambers said. “We might find our cure yet.”
Mab motioned for me to follow her into the hallway. I grabbed up one of Dillon’s pistols, checked to see it was nearly full, then followed her. She stood at the end of the hall, pressing her weight against the cellar door.
“No good,” she said. “I think it’s been barred as well as bolted. We won’t get out this way.”
“How did Dillon get in?” I said.
“I was wondering the same thing. If the doors are locked from the outside, how did he get during all of that struggle?”
I thought about this as my eyes landed on the one room I had been sure about. The door marked storage. “There.”
Mab opened the door and held her lantern into the closet sized room. Instead of boxes and cans, we found a narrow ladder that led from the floor to a small metal door in the ceiling. The door was bolted from our side.
“Sneaky son of a bitch, wasn’t he?” she said.
“You have no idea,” I said. I reached for the first rung, when Mab touched my arm. I glanced to her, and her soft worried look in the glow of the lamplight.
“What you did back there,” she said. “It was very brave.”
“I did what I had to do.”
“I don’t think so. I think it went against everything in your soul to kill him. If we could’ve done it any other way—”
“There was no other way,” I said over her. “Like I said, I did what I had to do.”
Mab’s eyes fairly sparkled in the lamplight, as if telling all manner of truths she couldn’t get to her lips. “Sam speaks very highly of you. You should know that.”
“Yes, well Stretch speaks just as highly of you.” I reached for the ladder.
She pulled me back again. “I’m serious. That child dotes on you. The same child that just watched you cut a man’s throat.”
I blinked at her, unsure what to say to that. I knew what she was saying. I was a bad influence on Sam. She needed better than me. I guess I had always known this.
“I’m all right,” Sam said.
We turned, as one surprised beast, to find Sam standing behind us in the hallway.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I know I cry a lot and I can’t help that. It helps me deal with stuff. But I am fine now. Dillon is finally dead and I’ll be fine.”
“Sam,” I said. “You know I …” I couldn’t say the rest of it, because I wasn’t sure I could lie to her.
“I know Mr. Theo,” she said. “You never would’ve done that if you didn’t have too. Just like you said you wouldn’t skin revs if you didn’t have too. But, sometimes we do things we don’t want to do, because we have to do them. Miss Deacon, you might think you know what is best for me, but you don’t know me.”
“Hon,” Mab said. “I didn’t mean to interfere I just—”
“It’s sweet,” she said. “It really is. Mr. Theo tries to tell me what’s best for me all of the time too. He don’t quite know me either, though he’s seen more of me.” She blushed a bit here.
I smirked at her. My Sam.
“I know everyone thinks of me as a child,” she said. “I don’t think you will ever stop thinking of me that way. And I’m fine with that too.”
“You’re a remarkable young woman,” Mab said.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. She knew how
I felt about her. The daughter I never asked for yet was so thankful to have received.
“Thank you,” Sam said. “I am so glad to have met both of you, but what I really want is to get out of here. I think I have had enough of the Badlands to last me a lifetime.”
“That’s something we can all agree on,” Mab said. She nodded to me and waved a hand at the ladder. “Shall we?”
I grabbed the first rung on the ladder to real and final freedom.
Part Five
Looking Back
Sam
I would like to say our journey back to the border was both quick and easy, but that would be a lie. We at least escaped the house without incident and began our long journey back to the border. A week into the trip, Doctor Chambers suffered from a heart attack and passed away in her sleep. Mab blamed herself, saying she should’ve went back and got Lilly for the older woman to ride to the border. Bowing reckoned it was a matter of time considering how much strain the woman had been under lately. The rest of our journey was fraught with undead attacks, poor weather, and just plain old exhaustion. By the time we reached the border, we were all ready to collapse.
I would like to say that we made it over the border with ease. That would also be untrue. Our border passage was a circus of events. Mab had full clearance to cross, while the rest of us had to undergo the scrutiny and quarantine of any criminal attempting to cross the line to get back east. We all thought Mr. Theo would at least make it over with Mab, but somehow a rumor of his death reached the border patrol and they refused to believe he was the real Theophilus Jackson. In the end, Mab sent a few telegraphs, and we all waited a few days until someone higher up the food chain said it was okay for us to pass as long as we weren’t bitten.
Life is never as easy as fairy tale, though it does have the occasional happy ending. Once we reached Washington DC, Mab passed off the remaining scientist and well as her reports on the activities in the Badlands. This prompted a full investigation into the western territories, as well as a moratorium on exiling criminals. The only folks that went west for the next month were soldiers. It was decided that it was high time the western front was both cleaned up and reclaimed.